Just Another Day at the Office
by OPKILLERFROST100813
Summary: Re-write for SSDD, and I'm not abandoning this one. For Soap MacTavish, he's the new guy along with Amy King. Riley Smith is caught up in a war that he wanted no part of. Together, they're going to help rewrite history as we know it. The only problem is, history is written by the victor. Are they going to come out on top, or will their history be forgotten forever? Multiple OCs.
1. The FNGs

**A.N.: Hey guys, what's up? So this first chapter is gonna be a little shorter than what the rest are gonna be like, but that's only because there isn't much going on and the story is just starting off. That's basically all I have to say at this point, so here's the chapter. So, feel free to leave a review, send a PM, and of course, enjoy. Until next time, OPKILLERFROST, out.**

 **Tracking… Found**

 **Unknown**

 **Credenhill, United Kingdom**

Before I start this story, I am just going to start off by saying that things happened differently than what you know. History is written by the victor, and the victor rewrote history. As far as you know, the United States supported an attack on Zakhaev International Airport, which led to the start of World War III. But that's not what happened. In actuality, the American that was found at the scene of the crime was a deep cover asset sent in to spy on Vladimir Makarov. What that operative did not know is that his superior sold him out in order to gain the glory from this war. While this was happening, the Russians were working on cracking an ACS module from a downed U.S. satellite. Two members of an elite team known as Task Force 141 were sent in to recover the module. Their mission was a success, but they failed to recover it in time. The Russians cracked the code and managed to get their fighters over the East Coast of the United States, ready to get revenge for what happened in Moscow. While the United States Armed Forces were busy fighting the threat at home, the Task Force was sent around the world tracking Makarov and beginning the counter attack. In fact, if it weren't for them, the United States never would have pushed Ivan out of the country. But enough of that, what you need to know is that there are always two sides to every conflict. Remember that the story that you learn about and begin to know as true is not always so. Remember that there is always that other side, the unknown. This is that story.

 **Six and a Half Years Ago**

 **Tracking… Found**

 **Private Emily Hill**

 **22** **nd** **SAS Regiment**

 **Credenhill, United Kingdom**

Have I ever mentioned that Russia was starting to become a thorn in everybody's side? First, it all started after World War II, starting the Cold War. Then there was the multiple wars in which they backed anybody that was not the United States. Now, they began to fight themselves. Russia was engaged in a Civil War between the Ultranationalist Rebels and the government. Unfortunately, if the Ultranationalists were allowed to come to power, the rest of the world would be on edge for the outbreak of World War III. As of right now, we were going to be helping fight the war from the shadows. Our next op was going to be to storm a freighter that will be crossing the Bering Strait and stop a nuke from being delivered to Russia. Hopefully, we'd get there in time. For now, though, we were going to have to train the FNGs.

As of right now, Gaz was in Hanger Three showing them how the SAS gets shit done. In the meantime, I was going to be hanging out with Riley. We were hanging out in Hanger Two, which actually housed the mess hall and rec room. There were a couple of other guys in there, but for the most part, we were the only ones that were actually doing something productive.

"Ten bucks says that one of the FNGs are gonna wander into here thinking they made it into the right hanger." I said

"You're on." Riley said

Sure enough, not five minutes later, one of the FNGs walked in, wandering around. He looked kinda cute, but he had this mohawk that just ruined the way that he looked.

"Is Captain Price in here?" He asked, his voice thick with a Scottish accent

"Nope, next hanger over." I said, almost dying of laughter when I saw Riley's face, almost like he couldn't believe that they would be dumb enough to go to the wrong hanger.

Once the FNG left, I held out my hand towards Riley, and felt satisfaction when I felt the money touch my hand. Nothing felt better than making a bet with Riley and proving him wrong. But now that I was thinking of it, I wanted to get over to Hanger One and see if either of these FNGs looked promising. Getting up, I walked over to the hanger, where I saw Captain Price sitting behind a row of TVs, watching their progress. Looking up, I saw a girl with brown hair waiting for her turn to run the course. That must mean that the Scot that walked in the hanger earlier was running the course.

"Sprint to the finish!" Price said "Alright Soap, that's enough. You'll do."

"Took him long enough, that was what, his tenth time running the course? No wonder the chick up there looks about ready to hang herself from boredom." Griffen said

I took a look at how fast "Soap" ran the course in and saw that the display read 22.2. I knew that the current squadron record was held by Gaz at 19 seconds, but I couldn't help but wonder if this FNG was trying to beat Gaz's record on his first day here. It would've been impressive, but I knew that it was impossible. Even after training on this thing for months, nobody can beat Gaz's record. The closest was Price with a solid 20. After Soap walked back over here, I looked up and saw the girl grab some flashbangs before walking to the edge of the platform.

"Grab the rope when you're ready." Followed by a "Go, go, go!" came from Price

I watched on the monitors as she went through and meticulously took out every obstacle. I guess after seeing Soap do it, she was more than ready to tackle this course. When she stepped into the red circle labeled "Finish," I looked up and saw her time. 22.1. I could already see the look of outrage on Soap's face that he had been beaten by a _tenth_ of a second.

"Alright King, that's enough. You'll do." Price said

The new chick, King walked over to us and Price began his briefing on the cargo mission. Although in retrospect, he should have gone into more detail with it, because of the fact that Soap and King had no clue what the cargo ship mission was, due to the fact that it was their first day here.

"Gentlemen," Price said

He was interrupted by a short cough by me. He looked up and I stared pointedly at him, nodding my head towards King while I did it.

"And ladies, the cargo ship mission is a go. Wheels up at 0200. Dismissed."

After that, we all left the hanger and I walked with Riley back to the barracks. If we were leaving that early for this op, I was going to catch some Z's beforehand. We walked into the barracks and I walked down the hall into my room, while Riley went into his room. When I walked in, I saw that the other bunk was finally being occupied, with a duffel thrown onto it. Must belong to that King girl. Not a second later, she walked into the room. Speak of the Devil and they shall appear, am I right?

"Oh, hi." She said

"Hey." I said

"Um, you must be Emily. I'm Amy, Amy King."

Her introduction reminded me of 007. 'The name's Bond. James Bond.' I was almost tempted to make a joke about it, but it didn't seem right. This chick was trying to get a good first impression with one of the other soldiers here (that soldier being me), so something told me that I shouldn't screw this up.

"The name's Emily Hill. You on the cargo mission with us later?"

"Captain Price said that Soap and I were going, yeah."

So Soap was going too. Must be Price wanting to test how they were on the battlefield. Was a good idea. I would want to know if my soldiers were combat effective or if they were just a bunch of pansies who somehow made it through Selection against all odds.

"Well, you might want to grab some shut-eye. We're leavin' early, so you don't want to be tired and miss the chopper. Price would have your hide when we got back."

I saw her face pale a little, and she just nodded before changing out of her uniform and into her sleepwear. After she was done changing, she flopped on her bed, which I did the same, and we both fell asleep.

 **Tracking… Found**

 **Sgt. John "Soap" MacTavish**

 **22** **nd** **SAS Regiment**

 **Credenhill, United Kingdom**

When I walked into my room, I saw that someone was already in there, reading a book. It was Gaz. I guess I shared a room with him now. I walked over to my bunk and pulled out something that was a little more comfortable than the uniform I was wearing and changed quickly. After that, I flopped onto the bed and stared at the ceiling for a little while, going over everything that was in my head. Was I going to be good on the mission? Was I going to screw up? Would I make the team doubt me? There were so many things floating through my head, that I almost didn't hear Gaz speak.

"You'll be fine, FNG."

"The name's Soap." I said

"I know, but right now, you're the FNG. The Fucking New Guy, so I might as well use the name while it lasts. Don't worry, mate, the name will wear off eventually and you'll be known as Soap in no time."

I just looked at him, then shook my head. I pulled out the journal that I had picked up when I heard that I made it through Selection, and I began to write. I had the feeling that this was going to be the start of a big part of my life, and I was excited to see where this would take me. I guess I would find out in nine hours. For now, though. I was going to sketch in my journal and start chronicling my life with the SAS. I guess Price was right, it's just another day at the office.


	2. Crew Expendable Blackout

**A.N.: All right, I know I'm an asshole. Post the first chapter of a story and then disappear off the face of the earth for six months. I kind of just lost my motivation to write, and I didn't want to start writing shitty chapters just to write chapters for you guys, so I just kind of stopped writing. Again, I'm sorry for doing that, and I'll try to be better not just disappearing for a while. But here's the next chapter, so feel free to leave a review, send a PM, and of course, enjoy. Until next time, OPKILLERFROST out.**

 **Tracking… Failed**

 **Name: Unknown**

 **Nationality: Unknown**

 **Location: Unknown**

As you should remember me saying, this story is the truth about how the events of the Russo-American War. In order to understand that, you have to understand who the combatants truly are as people. So gather around as I tell you the tale.

 **Tracking… Found**

 **John MacTavish**

 **No Military Record Found**

 **Scotland**

The future Sergeant MacTavish has never needed to want for anything. His father was a successful lawyer, one of the best in the area. John grew up comfortably with his parents and younger sister, and was planning on following in his step-father's footsteps, that was, until the September 11 attacks on the United States. John had friends that were in New York that day, and they were near the towers at the time of their collapse. Their bodies were found two days later, his friends died from blunt force trauma to the head. Taking this attack personally, even if it happened thousands of miles away, John changed his choice of career from becoming a lawyer like his step-father, he joined the military and was part of the 3rd Battalion, Parachute Regiment and served one tour in Northern Ireland before he was recruited for selection into the SAS. Now that you have a general background on Sergeant MacTavish, lets shift gears a bit and look at the life of the other FNG that has recently joined the ranks of the SAS.

 **Tracking… Found**

 **Amy King**

 **No Military Record Found**

 **Scotland**

Amy King lived the opposite of John MacTavish growing up. Her mother died giving birth to her, and her father did not take it well. He raised her like a proper father for the first six years of her life, but she was growing up into the spitting image of her mother, and her he was unable to take that. He started drinking more to try and forget his late wife, and he quickly became abusive. Amy was constantly hit for causing minor infractions to the house rules, and her father was almost constantly drunk. Eventually, the drink would lead to his demise. He drank himself to death in an attempt to forget his wife, and Amy was forced to go into foster care. She was adopted by a nice family a couple of months after her father's death, but it quickly turned into a farce. Her new foster father was just as abusive if not more. Her foster mother wasn't much better. He would constantly beat her for the fun of it, and this time, there was no alcohol to blame it on, he was just an evil person. Because of his constant beatings, and him yelling at her while he was doing it, she did not have the best social life growing up. She was closed off from everyone, trying to keep to herself. She never had any friends, and moved through school hating her life. That was, until she met the boy that saved her. She was forced to move with her step-father once again when they were evicted for not having rent again, due to her step-father spending so much on alcohol, and she was forced to switch schools. She was thirteen at the time, and she figured she was going to end up being a loner at this school too, but something was different. On her first day at her new school, she was made to sit next to a young man with jet black hair and icy blue eyes, and he made a lasting impression on her. He was kind, funny, smart, athletic, and just an all around nice person. For once in her life, she had met someone that hadn't already heard of her situation, and that actually cared for her. Taking the most of it, she started to be around the boy so much, but they started to drift apart after they graduated. He joined the military, and after a year, she did too in hopes of seeing him again. She never did. But she did find a new home in the military, and she was even at the top of her class graduating, and she was eventually noticed by the SAS and was selected to join their ranks, permitting she passed Selection, of course. But she would never forget the name of the boy who had given her hope that maybe there were people out there who cared for her: John MacTavish

 **Tracking… Found**

 **Emily Hill**

 **No Military Record Found**

 **Manchester, England**

Emily Hill was your average girl. She grew up with her parents, older brother, and little sister, she played sports, and was a member of numerous clubs. She didn't know what to do with her life after high school, and just followed her brother's footsteps into the military, figuring that from the way he described it, it would be a nice, easy job to have. She couldn't have been more wrong after she was recruited into the SAS. There was nothing easy about what she would be going through in just a few days time from when John MacTavish and Amy King became the newest FNGs.

 **Tracking… Found**

 **Sgt. John "Soap" MacTavish**

 **22nd SAS Regiment**

 **Bering Strait**

"Jump for it!"

The deck was soaked from the rain and sea, objects were flying and rolling everywhere, the ship was pitching back and forth on the stormy sea, and oh- did I forget to mention that the bloody thing was sinking? This operation was going so well, right up until the MiGs showed up. We were sent to intercept a package that the Russians were sending, and the intel told us that it was dangerous. We got on the ship easy enough, cleared the upper deck, cleared below deck, and found the package, which turned out to be a fucking nuke. I grabbed the manifest and we started to leave when the bow exploded and water flooded the ship. Price dragged me up, I grabbed King, and we ran like hell. We ran up the catwalk and started to run through the boiler room, but the damn pipes burst from built up steam and fogged up my gas mask. I had to tear it off, and I was left trailing behind the group. They were already on the Sea Knight by the time I caught up and the helicopter had already pulled away from the ship. Now I had to jump into the back of the ship. Only problem was that I was weighed down by about sixty pounds worth of gear and I had to jump a distance that was longer than I was tall. I broke into a sprint, going as fast as I could and pushed off of the edge, and I took flight. It wasn't the first time that I had flown through the air, but it was the first that I didn't have a parachute and this time, if I didn't make it into the helicopter, i would be falling down into the ocean, where I would either freeze or drown. It seemed like an eternity, but I drew closer to the Sea Knight, and I started to fall. I wasn't going to make it. As I got closer, I felt my stomach slam into the ramp, and my arms grabbed for anything that I could to stay on the heli. But there wasn't anything to grab but slick, wet metal. I started to slide off of the ramp, and I knew that I was going to die. I looked into the bay, and nobody saw that I was going to fall. Fear coursed through me, but just as I was about to fall, Captain Price looked back, and dove for my arms. He latched on, and I stopped sliding. 

"Gotcha! We're all aboard! Go!"

Price pulled me in, and I layed back on the floor, staring at the wreckage of the cargo ship as it sank beneath the waves, claimed by the sea. It was a startling thought to think that I was almost dragged down with it. If I had been a second slower, I never would have gotten onto the ramp like I did, and I would've fallen to my death. For the rest of the ride back to the base, I just sat in my seat quietly, thinking about how close I was to meeting Lady Death.

 **Connection Lost**

 **Tracking… Found**

 **Sgt. Amy King**

 **Airspace over Russia**

Well that was fun. Totally. Not like running for your life as the very ground beneath you was trying to sink beneath the waves could possibly in any way shape or form put a dampener on my mood. No that wasn't possible at all. But for now, I'll just plug in my iPod and listen to some My Chemical Romance. I leaned my head back against the wall of the helicopter, and let the music wash over me.

 _There might be something outside your window_

 _But you just never know_

 _There could be something right past the turnpike gates_

 _But you'll just never know_

 _If my velocity starts to make you sweat,_

 _Then just don't let go_

 _And if the Heaven ain't got a vacancy_

 _Then we just, then we just, then we just_

 _Then we just get up and go!_

No matter how old I get, my taste in music will forever be the same. Ever since I was a little kid in the '90s, listening to Red Hot Chili Peppers, to now, listening to My Chemical Romance, I've always been the heavy rock type. It was always the best way to calm down, just throw on some music and ignore the world. Crappy day at school? _Chop Suey!_ Exam that I might have failed? _The Catalyst_. Just got fired? _Riot_. Music has been my coping mechanism since forever. There has never been a situation that I have come across when music could not help brighten my mood. So I sat there with my head against the wall, falling asleep to the sound of Rise Against's _Re-Education (Through Labor)_.

Hours later, I was being shaken awake by Gaz as we were landing. I thought that we were going right back to base, but I guess I missed a part of the briefing because we were on the Russo-Georgian border.

"Wake up sunshine, you've got drool in your hair."

That woke me up quick. I furiously clawed at my hair, trying to get the drool out, when I saw Gaz smirking at me, trying to contain his laughter. Oh that son of a bitch.

"Gaz, you've got about three seconds to run as far as you can before I mess you the fuck up."

Gaz just scoffed and looked at me funny. _You really think that you can scare me?_ I raised my eyebrow and stared right back. _I know that I can._ After a few seconds, he actually looked sort of miffed. He gave me a funny look and then walked out of the helicopter. I stood up and started to grab the rest of my gear. I looked behind me and saw that Soap was standing there looking at me weird, almost like he was trying to remember something. I just shrugged it off and started to walk to the safehouse to get geared up for whatever mission we were onto next.

 **One Hour Later**

For just meeting the man, Kamarov has already pissed me off. First, he tells us that he can help us get Nikolai out of whatever hell he's in right now, but then he makes us give his men sniper support to start the assault, which is fine, his guys need cover. But then we start to get attacked by helicopter troops, so that kind of pisses me off, but it's whatever. But then he says that he wants more sniper support. What the hell man? We have a person to save and he's wasting precious time. But to keep the man happy, we oblige. We start to snipe the Ultranationalists to keep his men covered and move up, allowing them to even take out an APC. After that, and we went to the power station overlooking the village. Kamarov took out a pair of binoculars and started to look at the battle.

"Look. The final assault has already begun. With a little more of your sniper support we are sure to be victorious. Captain Price, I need to ask one more favour for you and your men. Although my men are training for these situations, with your help, we can do it more efficiently." Kamarov said

I don't know about the other guys, but I was starting to get tired of this guy's constant want for sniper support. I saw Price look at Gaz and nodded towards Kamarov. Gaz didn't say anything, but he walked up to the Russian sergeant, and shoved him. Kamarov stumbled towards the edge, almost falling over the barrier between us and the fifty foot drop to the ground. He started to push himself back up when Gaz forced him back down, almost knocking him over the barrier.

"Enough sniping! Where is the informant?!"

"Что ты делаешь? Что, с ума сошёл? Что себе позволяешь? **(What are you doing? Are you crazy? What do you think you're doing?)** " Kamarov yelled

"Where is he?!"

"The house! The house at the northeast end of the village!"

"Well that wasn't so hard was it? Now go sit in the corner."

Gaz let go of Kamarov and the Russian sat down, looking like he had just gotten a scolding from his mother.

"Soap, Gaz, King. We've got to reach that house before anything happens to the informant. Let's go!"

We rappelled down the cliff, and immediately started to take fire from the Ultranationalists. We took cover wherever we could, me and soap behind a large tractor, Gaz and Price hiding behind a dumpster. From what I could see, there were three buildings, one on our left, closest to me and Soap, another on our left, closest to Gaz and Price, and another directly across from us.

"Clear a way through these buildings to the other end of the courtyard! We have to get to that informant before the sun comes up!" Price said

I looked around and saw that there was a clear path from here to the building if there was something to keep the Ruskies' attention. I tapped Soap on the shoulder, and he looked back.

"Give me some covering fire, I'm moving towards the building!" He just nodded and I started counting down. "Three… two… one!"

I had never hauled ass so fast in my life, except for maybe on that cargo ship yesterday. Had that really only been yesterday that we narrowly escaped joining that freighter at the bottom of the Bering Strait? Snap out of it, Emily, focus! You're kind of getting shot at right now! I dove through the open doorway and took cover behind a desk to avoid getting shot at. After a moment I stood back up and looked over at Soap, holding three fingers up. He seemed to get the message, and got on his feet, ready to run. I dropped a finger down, and Soap leaned forward in anticipation. I dropped the final finger and sprang out of the doorway just as Soap started to run towards me. I locked in on where a spray of gunfire was lighting up the night and focused on firing my M4 in that general direction. I kept up the fire until I heard a dull _thunk_ in front of me. I looked at the ground and saw the end of the world. A live grenade was at my feet and all I could think was 'Shit'. That was, until a large mass of _something_ hit knocked me down, throwing me into the room. The next thing I know, I'm on the ground in the building with something covering me as the wall explodes, showering whatever was on top of me with wood and glass. After the thing started to roll off of me, I realized that it was Soap. He gave me one look before he got off of me. He seemed to be looking at me like I was crazy or something.

"There something on my face?" I asked

"Next time there's a grenade at your feet, I would suggest running away instead of looking at it like it had three heads. I won't always be around to save you." Soap said

"I don't need you to save me."

"Really? Because you were pretty gobsmacked by that grenade, and you were frozen like a statue when the freighter was going down."

I was about to reply, but my voice was gone. I couldn't just spout off why I was frozen then, that one of my foster father's favorite acts of abuse was to hold my head under water until I was almost unconscious. When I saw that water, I was frozen in fear, remembering all of the terrible times that the liquid was forced down my throat as my lungs tried to get the air they desperately needed. I was only brought out of this stupor by Soap grabbing me, forcing me to run for my life. He was starting to become something like a guardian angel. 'Just like John.' I thought. But John was off somewhere in the paras. He wasn't anywhere near here. The only one here was Soap, and he wasn't anywhere as nice as John was.

"I'm sorry for the freighter, I just haven't had the best experiences when I've dealt with water. I can barely stand to drink the stuff. And the grenade was more of a surprise than anything."

"Well next time, don't act so surprised. Either run for cover or toss it back. Unlike a bullet, you won't survive a grenade going off right next to you."

I didn't even bother giving him a response, I just got up and started to walk past him. I walked towards the door at the other end of the room and was prepared to go through it when Soap grabbed my shoulder.

"Price would be ashamed. You aren't checking your corners." He said with a smirk

Was he being serious right now? He gets done yelling at me just to start cracking jokes? I was about to berate him for it when an Ultranationalist walked in through the door. Soap was the first to react, punching the soldier in the face with his right and knocking away the soldier's AK with his left. Soap yanked on the soldier's arm, punching him, before taking the same arm, flipping the soldier over Soap's back, all before Soap pulled out his M9 and put a round through the soldier's head. I looked at him in awe, not expecting him to be so good at hand-to-hand combat. He seemed to catch onto this and looked at me awkwardly.

"I was on the wrestling team in high school." He said

I just nodded before we walked out of the room, continuing through the building. There was nobody else in there with us, but there were still more hostiles outside. As we were about to leave, there was an Ultranationalist standing in the doorway of the center building, but before either Soap or I could react, he was gunned down, Gaz appearing in the doorway. Looking ahead, there were three more soldiers hiding behind a car. Despite having such a close call with one before, I pulled out a grenade and pulled the pin. And then I held it in my hand. One… Soap looked at me like I was crazy. Two… The soldiers behind the car started shooting through the wood and into the houses. Three… Soap was yelling at me to throw the grenade, but I wasn't listening. Four. I threw the grenade into the air, right at the car. I was never one for baseball when I was younger, but I prayed that this went where I wanted. It did. The grenade smashed right into the rear window of the car, landing in the backseat. The three soldiers seemed to realize what it was but it was too late. Five. The grenade detonated, sending the soldiers flying back, dead from either the concussive force, or the shrapnel. With the way now clear, we all moved up, the house with the informant just ahead.

"Bloody hell let's move. He may still be alive." Price said

As we approached the house, we started to get ready in breaching positions.

"Gaz, King, go around back and cut the power! Soap, get ready!" Price said

I went around back with Gaz and pried open the breaker box while Gaz flipped the switches, turning off the power to the inside. Who the hell had their breaker box outside? Why the hell wasn't this inside where it was more easily accessible. The more I thought about it, the less sense it made, so I decided to stop thinking about it all together. If they wanted to be dumb and have their breaker box outside, the easier it was for us. While Price and Soap went in the front door, Gaz and I went around the house and went through the back door. Going up some stairs to the porch, I looked in some windows and saw the other two moving through the house taking out the few poor bastards that were in their way. As we walked in, I saw Soap kill another Russian, and this guy dropped his flashlight, shining it right into the face of the man we were here to rescue: Nikolai.

"Что вы хотите? Кто вы? Спецвойска? (What do you want? Who are you? Special forces?)" Nikolai said

"It's him." Price said

"Nikolai- are you all right? Can you walk?" Gaz asked

"Yes… and I can still fight. Thank you for getting me out of here."

"Big Bird, this is Bravo Six. We have the package. Meet us at LZ one. Over." Price said

"Bravo Six, this is Big Bird. We're on our way. Out."

"Let's go."

We all leave through the door that Gaz and I walked in from, heading back down the stairs. We moved through a gate and towards an open field, where I saw Big Bird was landing. How the hell did they get here so fast? There shouldn't have been a place for them to land nearby and they certainly haven't been circling the area. I couldn't wrap my head around it, but I wasn't going to complain. All that it meant was less of a wait to leave. We all piled into the helicopter, my in between Soap and Gaz with Price and Nikolai across from us.

"Have the Americans already attacked Al-Asad?!" Nikolai yelled over the noise of the Black Hawk's rotors

"No, their invasion begins in a few hours! Why?!" Price said

"The Americans are making a mistake. They will never take Al-Asad alive."

I didn't know what that was supposed to mean but I didn't bother thinking about it. I just pulled out my iPod and started my music. I slowly allowed myself to fall asleep to the sound of Hells Bells playing in my ears. I had no idea what was about to be in store for me in another hour.


	3. Hunted and Death From Above

**Tracking… Found**

 **Sgt. Amy King**

 **22nd SAS Regiment**

 **Western Russia**

I woke up to nothing but the cosmos. It was beautiful, no light pollution, no clouds, nothing to obscure the view between me and the stars. At first, all I could do was look up at the stars, but something started to nag at me from the back of my mind. Wasn't I doing something? There was something that I was doing with some people… what was one of their names? Shampoo… Shoop… Shoap… Soap! We had just rescued Nikolai from the Ultranationalists, and we were trying to bring him to our safehouse in Hamburg.

But we were in a Black Hawk, why am I on the ground? I looked around, looking to see if I could find any clue as to what the hell was going on, but the only thing that I could see was a pillar of smoke coming up about two hundred meters away, but other than that, it looked like I was in the middle of some farmer's field. I looked around some more, but I was still confused as to where the rest of the team was. What happened? We were flying through the countryside, Gaz had just reported that we were en route to Hamburg, but after that, everything is all fuzzy. I pushed myself off the ground, and figured that if I was going to figure out what's going on, then I would have to follow the breadcrumbs, or smoke, to be more accurate.

I pulled out my M9, and started to walk toward a group of buildings, but there was something going on outside of them. There were at least, half a dozen Ultranationalists, and they were questioning an old man, who looked like he was scared out of his mind. I may not speak Russian very well, but I could tell that they were asking the old man about me and the others. I could hear him say the words "British" and "crash", making it obvious that they were looking for a group of British people that survived a helicopter crash. Was that what happened? We crashed in the Russian countryside? I closed my eyes, and it all came back to me.

 _We were in the chopper, and there was a flash of light in the distance, and it was approaching very fast._

" _What the bloody hell is that?" Price asked_

 _That's when the missile warning alarm started to sound, and I realized just what kind of shit we were about to be in._

" _Incoming missile! Hang on!" Priced yelled_

 _I watched the missile fly past us and strike the cockpit, and I knew the pilots were dead. There's no way that you can survive that kind of explosion and survive. Before any of us could react, the helicopter went into a tailspin, and we were hurtling toward the ground. Before I could do anything, the centrifugal force yanked me out of the chopper right before it hit the ground._

Now I was sitting in front of a bunch of Russians, who looked like they were about to shoot an old man for not knowing where the rest of my team and I were. There just wasn't anything that I could to help him. If I opened fire with nothing but my M9, these guys would tear me to shreds.

I was about to sneak away when a storm of bullets came flying out of the barn, all finding a home in the bodies of the Russians. The old man made it out alive, running as fast as he could back into his home. A group of five men walked out of the barn, surveying the dead bodies. They started to walk my way, so I dove into a bush to avoid getting shot. Whoever they were, they don't like the Ultranationalists, and they're damn good at killing them. That means that they're damn good at killing me. I watched as they began to walk by, and jumped at what looked like the weakest one. He was walking with a limp, and looked like there was a large gash running down his face. I jumped out at him, wrapping my arm around his neck, and pointing the barrel of my gun at his head.

"Alright, lass, there's no need for that." the man said

I saw him creeping for his own sidearm and hit his head with mine. "None of that. Hands straight out in front of you. I see one move from you or your friends, and you're dead." I said

"Dammit, King, put the bloody weapon down!"

I knew that voice. "Price?"

"For fuck's sakes, King, stop pointing that thing at Soap's head before you make his mug even uglier."

That one was Gaz. I could see Nikolai standing between the two of them, so that meant that my M9 was aimed at Soap's head. I quickly let him go, and backed up, letting him catch his breath. It wasn't exactly a pleasant thing to have someone's arm wrap around your throat and have a gun put up to your head. He turned and looked at me, and all I saw was his pair of icy blue eyes staring at me with a look that asked "what the bloody fuck did you think you were doing?" I just grinned sheepishly, trying to apologize without saying the words. I never was one for saying sorry when I was wrong. I looked at the others, and they just shook their heads. I guess they weren't that excited for my return either. Regardless, we still had to find our way out of here.

"How the hell are we going to get out of here?" I asked

"Extraction is on the other side of the village. There's an AC-130 en route to assist, but for right now, we're on our own." Gaz said

"Right, well, we need to get moving, before we're spotted. These farms are crawling with Ultranationalist forces." Price said

We started moving across the field when we were forced to the ground by an enemy helicopter. Then, wouldn't you know it? A truck pulled up on the road right next to the field, and you want to know who got out? More fucking Russians. Just great. They opened fire on us, opening up the opportunity to return fire. I mean, if you're getting shot at, then you can kill the bastards shooting at you, right? We made it to the farmhouse, where we all covered Gaz as he tried to get the basement door open before we were all killed. Just as the Ruskies were starting to close in on us, Gaz got the door open and we all scrambled to get down the stairs. Once Price was through, he closed another door that was at the bottom of the stairs. Panting, he turned around to the rest of us, spread out all over the basement.

"Soap! Take point and scout ahead for an exit." He said

Soap started making his way to the basement stairs, and I was on his six. I wasn't about to let him go off and get himself killed because there was no one to watch his back. We both moved up the stairs, and made our way through the house. There was a close call when some bullets broke the windows facing the field, and Soap almost lost his head. After that, we moved low to the floor until we were in the kitchen. There was another door to our left, and after that, there was the back door, leading outside. Before we could get far, I saw a little black pipe be tossed in the room, followed by a baseball-shaped rock. Wait- that was no rock.

"Grenade!" I shouted, yanking Soap out of the room by his plate carrier, and shoved him back into the hallway. I jumped after him, just in time to miss the grenade exploding, sending shrapnel everywhere. I landed next to him, right on his arm, and I looked up just in time to see three Ultranationalists pointing their guns at us.

"Do svidaniya." I heard one of them say

Well I guess that this is where it ends. I saved Soap from getting killed by a grenade, just for him to get killed by a Russian with an AK. They walked forward, and just as they were about to pull the trigger, a flurry of bullets flew in from outside, through the windows, and they all found a home in the bodies of the three men in front of me. Talk about a stroke of luck. They try to kill us, just to get killed by friendly fire. I looked at Soap, to find that he's looking at me, just as baffled by what just happened. That was how the rest of the squad found us.

"What the bloody hell are you two doing? You're supposed to be finding an exit, not cuddling in the middle of a firefight!" Gaz said

I got off of the ground, finally giving him access to his arm again. We left through the back door, but as soon as we did, all the shouting stopped, not a shot was fired. It was as if the Russians had just upped and disappeared.

"It's too quiet. Where the hell did they go?" I asked. I was not trying to get caught up in an ambush, and die in the middle of Russia.

"They're probably regrouping. Trying to cut us off somewhere up ahead." Gaz said

The moment that he said that, the shouting returned, along with barking. Fuck. I saw the German Shepherd coming, but I couldn't bring my gun up in time. The damn thing jumped at me, knocking me to the ground. It immediately went for my throat, but it never got that far. As much as it pained me to kill a dog, I grabbed it's head, and twisted it's head. I could hear the crack as it's neck was broken, and I pushed the dog off of me.

The rest of the squad was engaging the Russians, so I thought that I might as well assist. Might as well be helpful. We cleared them out, and moved our way across a riverbed, another field, and through some greenhouses, killing every Russian along the way. When the final Ruskie dropped dead in a barn, we were left alone with that damn helicopter. But Lady Luck was on our side tonight, because there was anti-air in the barn.

"Soap, grab a Stinger and take out that chopper, move!" Price said

Soap did as he was told and fired the Stinger at the helicopter, but the bastard popped some flares. Soap fired another missile, and this time, the rocket found its home in the tail rotor. The chopper spinned out, before crashing into one of the greenhouses, lighting it up in flames.

"Good work, Soap. Everyone on me. Let's move out." Price said

We followed him out the back of the barn, and to a road. There was a gas station up ahead, but more importantly, there was a convoy of trucks and tanks pulling up outside of it. They must have gotten word that we were making our way through here, and they wanted to make sure that we were dead. There was no way around this. We would either have to hold position and wait for someone to come to us, or we would have to go to them and get slaughtered.

"Bravo Six, be advised, that AC-130 is entering your airspace at this time, out."

I guess that Lady Luck was still on our side. Price called it in, and within the minute, hell was raining upon that convoy. There was nothing left but burning medal and fiery corpses. We continued to push on, moving across the bridge the convoy crossed, and into the village on the other side.

 **One Hour and Ten Minutes Later**

This day just wouldn't end. We'd managed to fight our way across the village, all the way up to the extraction zone. It was on the far side of a junkyard, and it seemed like there was a Russian hiding in every car. There were men with RPGs on every rooftop, an AK behind every headlight. We had to fight tooth and nail for every inch of ground we were gaining, even with Warhammer's help. It seemed like every Ultranationalist in Russia was trying to kill us, and that statement probably wasn't that far off. We weren't popular enough to get Zakhaev's attention, but we definitely were wanted dead by the majority of the Ultranationalist forces. It probably had something to do with the fact that we stole one of their nukes, then we freed one of their informants. That probably pissed them off a bit.

We were halfway across the junkyard when the tanks showed up. They came out of the treeline, with more reinforcements. They just kept coming, didn't they? It was like they knew exactly where the extraction zone was, and they were going to keep coming until loss of life out-weighed reward. Warhammer continued to rain hell on the Russians, taking out any and all armor that tried to make its way towards our position. Finally, it seemed like they were starting to wane. The Russians started to come with less and less effort, with less and less men. Finally, they stopped coming altogether. We were free to make our way to the field, where he Chinook landed for us. We all boarded, trying to ignore the smell of burning bodies as Warhammer's destruction surrounded us.

Once safely inside, we all collapsed into the seats. We were all exhausted, from our earlier operation to save Nikolai, and then surviving after the crash. We were so hopped up on adrenaline, we never felt how tired we were. Now that we were calming down, it was damn near impossible to stay awake. I barely had time to turn on my iPod and start listening to _Born for Greatness_ by Papa Roach before my eyelids were closing and I was asleep.


End file.
